Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Turkmenistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Sex Pistols to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lindisfarne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Skarface,
Kerrie Biddell,
This Heat,
Bobbi Humphrey,
JFA,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Banda Bassotti,
Davy DMX,
Panda Bear,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Nas,
China Crisis,
Adolescents,
Ultravox,
Whodini,
Wire,
Tomorrow,
Guru Guru,
Kayak,
The Last Poets,
The Remains,
The Skatalites,
Moby Grape,
Robert Hood,
The Durutti Column,
Fear,
The New Christs,
Iggy Pop,
ABC,
Underground Resistance,
Steve Hackett,
Zapp,
Youth Brigade,
Supertramp,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
The Sonics,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Nirvana,
Inner City,
Gang Green,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Johnny Clarke,
June of 44,
The Residents,
PIL,
Ituana,
John Holt,
Quando Quango,
Porter Ricks,
Camberwell Now,
Yazoo,
Desert Stars,
World's Most,
Matthew Halsall,
Silicon Teens,
Trumans Water,
Franke,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.